Double Sided
by Nmbr27
Summary: A devastating plane crash during a mission leaves behind two worlds: one where Rogue mourns Logan's death, and the other where he mourns hers. But which one is real? Which X-man actually survived?
1. Two Weeks Ago

Every alarm blared. The plane shook so hard Rogue thought it would break apart. Not that they had long in the air anyway. Forge's device fried the whole jet and now they were plummeting through the clouds.

"Rogue, get over here," Logan shrieked. He sat at the controls, trying to get something to work. She clutched a seat at the back of the cockpit where the initial jolt had thrown her. It was just the two of them, just them and the stupid jet that was going to kill them.

"Rogue!"

She pulled herself forward until she braced against the seat behind him. Then the G's wouldn't let her go any farther without smashing into the glass. He glanced back.

"Girl, you know only one of us is going to make it out of this crash alive," he told her. Before she realized what he was doing, he had both of his gloves off and reached out to her. Her body surged with strength.

"No, Logan," she called, trying to break free. "Don't. You'll die." She felt it, the transfer, the memories, the powers, everything. "Please." She tried to pull back, but he held on tighter. He wrapped his arms around her, more skin contact than she'd felt in she didn't know how long.

"Everything's going to be all right, darlin," he whispered, holding on as tight as he could. "Everything's going to be all right." He was weakening. Soon she'd be able to break free. Not soon enough. The ground came rushing up. The windshield shattered.

--

"No!" She bolted up in bed. Her whole body shook, dripping sweat. She was in her room in the mansion. It was dark, still night. She burst into tears.

It was two weeks ago now, two weeks since the day that changed everything. Why hadn't she let go? Logan was right. Only one of them made it out of the crash alive, and it wasn't the person who should have.

Shakily she got out of bed. She knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, and even if she did she'd just have the nightmare again. She opened the door as quietly as possible and headed into the hall.

Xavier had given her her own room after the crash. Her nightmares scared the others and, well, it was just easier on everyone if she slept by herself.

She could deal with the lost sleep, but the event left more than nightmares. He gave her everything, his healing, his enhanced senses, his strength. Through the complete transfer, they found out that Logan's claws weren't surgically implanted. After a few days, bone claws grew in her arms. Now she could release them as easily as he did. All his powers were hers, but not his memories.

As she descended the stairs, a fresh wave of grief caught her. She froze in place, gripping the handrail. When the others finally found the downed jet, she was already mostly healed. Physically that is. Mentally was a whole other story. Every thought Logan ever had shouted in her mind. She couldn't stop it, couldn't control it, so they made a hard decision.

She didn't really remember the rest, how Jean knocked her out, how they brought her back to the mansion, how Xavier spent three days trying to rip Logan's memories out so she could think coherently again, but she did remember the screaming. Even with Logan's healing ability, it took a day for her throat to mend and let her speak again.

Walking down the main hall, she moved as quietly as Logan's talent could carry her. Of course, silence alone didn't really keep someone from spotting you, especially when the TV lit your figure in the doorway and that someone was waiting.

"Hey," Bobby called softly. He smelt wary like he always did when she woke up. It was like he didn't know exactly who she was at the moment.

She gave him a small smile. That always made him relax. Silently she settled onto the chair across from him.

They sat in silence for a long time. The screen was muted. Without the words, she couldn't tell what the show was about. She didn't really care though. She hadn't really been that entertained by TV since Logan died.

Finally Bobby spoke. "Another dream?" he asked.

"Hm." That was one thing she kept of Logan's. It said so much, and yet it took no effort at all. Plus, she found that most people left her alone when she did. Unfortunately, Bobby wasn't most people.

"Do you need anything?"

She shook her head. If she could feel anything for him, it would be pity. As it was, she couldn't feel anything at all. She knew in the past they flirted, but now…now her mind was on somebody else, and he happened to be dead.

Bobby rose slightly in his seat as a tear glistened in her eye. "Rogue, please let me help you," he called softly.

"Nobody can help me," she said, rising. "I killed him, and I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life."

"You didn't kill him."

She stopped cold. The tone in his voice…

"I mean," he stuttered, "it wasn't your fault. He made the decision, not you."

"Go to bed, Bobby," she said. She couldn't look at him anymore. Maybe she'd try to sleep again, just for a while.

**

Every alarm blared. The plane was falling apart, but it didn't really matter. They'd be dead in a couple of minutes regardless. Logan gripped the controls, trying to slow their decent. No good. He didn't have much time.

"Rogue, get over here," he shrieked. They were the only two in the jet, the only two needed for the mission. Or at least that's what they had thought before Forge showed up. The plane jerked again.

"Rogue!"

She came up behind him, clutching a seat back, her eyes wide open. They were going to die. Or, at least, one would. He got up.

"Girl, you know only one of us is going to make it out of this crash alive," he called, taking off his gloves. The second he touched her skin, his tensed. His body drained of warmth.

"No, Logan," she shrieked, trying to pull away. "Don't. You'll die."

She pulled hard, crying as the alarms screamed at them. He was weakening. She was getting his strength. Too fast. She pushed him back and stumbled across the cabin.

"Rogue," he called. She was too far away. He couldn't reach her in time. He watched the tears swell in her eyes as the ground came rushing up. The windshield shattered.

--

"Rogue!" He bolted up in bed. He was in his room in the mansion, panting, dripping sweat. He couldn't stand it. He screamed again, gripping the sides of his head. His fingers gouged fresh wounds in his skin. His healing ability canceled it out, the ability that had failed Rogue.

It was two weeks ago now, two weeks since the day that changed everything. Why had she let go? He was ready to die for her, would have, if only he knew she would survive. But she didn't. Rogue was dead, smashed to nothing in a snarled heap of metal and wiring. That image never left his mind.

Knowing he wouldn't get back to sleep, Logan got up. He opened the door and headed down the hall. Xavier had given him a different room after the crash. His nightmares were bad before, but at least back then he didn't wake up screaming. To let the others sleep, he switched to a room off the main hall. It was isolated, but it was for the best.

He caught a scent downstairs. Jean. He didn't want to see her, but to get outside he had to pass the kitchen, and she definitely already sensed him wake up.

"Hey," she called, coming through the kitchen door. She paused, waiting. She'd been doing that a lot lately, like she was trying to decide who he was at the moment. Frankly, he wished he knew.

"Hey, Red," he muttered. He tried to get past her. She gripped his arm.

"Logan, we should talk," she said.

"Let go." He could feel the warmth of her touch through his shirt sleeve. Since Rogue died, he couldn't bring himself to touch anyone, so he wore long sleeved shirts, gloves. He stayed as covered up as the girl ever was.

"Logan," Jean said, but he cut her off. His hand snapped up and gripped her neck. He slammed her into the wall.

"Put her down."

Slim. Out of everyone at the mansion, he was the only one who didn't treat Logan any differently after the crash. Right now the guy was poised with a hand to his glasses, ready to blast Logan through the wall.

After a moment, Logan released his grip, and Jean dropped, coughing, down to the floor. He backed away.

"Logan," she wheezed as Scott crouched next to her.

"Please," he whispered. "Just leave me alone." He turned and headed outside. As he walked out into the night, he heard Scott's whisper behind him.

"You need to be more careful," he said.

"Nothing happened," Jean returned weakly.

"No, but it could have."

Logan couldn't take it. He started running. He knew he probably shouldn't. The last time he did, he'd run until his feet bled. Kurt had to teleport him back. But running, making his legs scream, was the only thing that kept the rest of him sane.


	2. Out of the Fight

Metal shrapnel clattered to the ground. She sliced another chunk of sentinel plating and the thing finally dropped her. She hit the ground, breaking one leg and spraining the other knee, and waited the brief moment before they healed. She sprang back to her feet, just barely dodging a pulse shot.

Each slice of her claws was a cut off her screaming mind. She couldn't take thinking anymore. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him, crushed in the downed jet. She couldn't stop it, so instead she fought.

Another sentinel reached to grip her around her waist. With a single slice the thing's hand came off and joined the heap of tempered metal beneath her feet.

The danger room setting wasn't actually at Logan's level, bone clays couldn't cut as easily as adamantium, but Rogue had it set as high as she could make it go. Xavier tried to keep her under level eight, but she knew the feeling of his mental nudging, and she'd made such a fuss that he actually backed off. Actually, people seemed to be doing that a lot lately, like they didn't want to make her too upset.

Gritting her teeth, Rogue sliced a long gash in one sentinel's leg. The thing exploded, knocking her across the room. She hit the wall so hard it kicked in the safety protocols, and the program shut down. She cursed under her breath, waiting for the room to stop spinning. When was the computer going to realize she wasn't going to die?

That last thought made her freeze. No. She wasn't going to die, not for a long, long time, and the healer, the immortal Wolverine, was dead, covered in dirt behind the school. She hadn't gone to the funeral, but she knew where his burial was. She stayed far away from it.

Wiping the moister from her eyes, she got up. Strange how she never truly cried anymore. It was only a little moisture, not enough to make a tear. She guessed it had something to do with Logan's pride. Whatever.

Grabbing a towel from her locker, she started wiping off when her enhanced hearing picked up a piece of conversation.

"We need to talk."

That was Scott. He didn't sound too far away, maybe in the ready room down the next hall.

"What is it?'

That was Xavier. He sounded tired, really tired. Rogue was beginning to worry about him. He'd been that way since the crash.

There was a short pause, then Scott's voice again.

"Where are they?"

"Rogue is in the Danger Room."

"Again?"

"She has a lot of anger right now. She needs to work it out."

"Professor, don't you think this has gone on long enough? I mean, he almost killed Jean last night. If I hadn't-"

"He wouldn't have killed her."

"How do you know? You said it yourself. You haven't been able to get inside her head for days."

"Scott, please trust my judgment."

"They deserve to know-"

He cut off. By this time, Rogue was only one door away from them. The longer she listened, the colder she felt. What were they hiding? A second later, Scott opened the door. He looked at her for a moment then turned and stocked away. She entered the room.

"Professor?" she asked.

"Yes? Ah, come in." He was shutting down a monitor, for all the world looking like he hadn't just had a heated argument with his star pupil.

"I was wondering if you could take a look at the safety protocols in the Danger Room," she said. If he could pretend nothing happened, she could too.

"What's wrong with them?"

"The thing just turned off in the middle of a session."

He finished his fiddling and turned completely towards her. He studied her eyes for a moment before shaking his head.

"They set themselves. You know that," he replied.

"But it's like the computer doesn't realize I have Logan's powers," she countered.

"Rogue, I believe the controls are accurate. Have patience."

She closed her eyes. She could feel it, the anger building up. Anything set her off these days, and she didn't want to snap at Xavier. After a moment, she could finally speak without adding a snarl.

"Thanks anyway," she muttered and turned to leave. She wanted to find Slim, find out what he was angry about. She didn't like the fact that he had mentioned her in his argument. And did she just call Scott Slim?

**

Logan rested against the rough bark of an oak tree, two or three limbs up from the bottom. Slowly he worked bits of wood free from the branch before him, watching them fall to the ground below. When a roar sounded over the schoolhouse, he closed his eyes. The others set off on a mission, leaving him behind for "obvious reasons."

"Obvisous reasons." He just about flayed the Professor for that one. What was so obvious about it? Was he being band from missions because he couldn't focus or because they were afraid he'd take out his anger on Magneto, or Electro, or whoever the hell they were fighting next? In his opinion, both were stupid reasons. No matter how many shots someone got in, he'd finish the job, and didn't he always take out his anger on the enemy?

He smelt a light frost and sighed. Great, he thought as Bobby approached the tree's base.

"Hey," the teen called.

"Hey, Icecube." He could see the kid tense. It was just the two of them for now. Everyone else was needed for the mission.

"Um, so what are you doing?"

"Just thinking," he muttered.

Bobby fidgeted a moment longer. He seemed expectant, but Logan couldn't tell for what so he didn't offer anything. Finally Bobby gave up.

"Well, if you…want to think out loud or something, I'll be inside," he said.

"Thanks, kid." He really meant it. The two of them had never been close, but the teen was surprisingly supportive. Logan wouldn't take him up on the offer, but it was nice anyway.

Bobby paused a moment longer before nodding silently and heading back to the mansion.

Logan watched him go. When he lost sight of his teammate, he returned to chipping pieces out of the tree branch, listening to the soft snap of protest each made before finally giving way.

For an instant, something about his claw changed. The color seemed to fade, dimming from its shining silver to a light tan, but the effect disappeared immediately. He studied the claw for a long time, but it didn't change again. Chalking the experience up to nerves, he retracted his claw and dropped to the ground.

**

Images flashed before Rogue's eyes. Most prominent was the crash, the look of the ground inches beyond the window, about to mangle jet and occupants. The scene in the basement levels intertwined with it, Scott's scowl and Xavier's pointedly ignorant look. She heard their voices.

_"She has a lot of anger right now."_

_"Don't you think this has gone on long enough?"_

_"Please, trust my judgment."_

_"They deserve to know."_

The roar of the busted jet engine and the blare of alarms mingled with their argument. Then suddenly Logan's face appeared, taking up her full vision. She started awake.

She sat at the base of a tree in the back yard. Funny, she didn't remember coming outside, let alone falling asleep. She stretched her soar neck and got up, wiping chipped pieces of wood from her clothes.

The rest of the team was on a mission, she knew that for a fact. She couldn't catch a fresh scent of any of them, that is, except for Bobby. He must have been left behind. Maybe there were "obvious reasons" behind his grounding too.

Noting Bobby and Xavier's positions in the mansion, she headed to a door far enough away from them to make it inside without confrontation. Her whole body felt soar. It adjusted quickly, but it was still stiff. She must have been out for a while.

Rogue headed for her room, trying to decide between a nap and another Danger Room session. Suddenly she stopped, breathing in sharply. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed something. Not something, someone. Someone she shouldn't have seen. She backed up and looked to where the image had been, only to be met with uncertain hazel eyes. It was her reflection in the mirror.

It took a while for her to get over her shock. She could have sworn she'd seen him, green eyes, styled black hair, but it was just her own reflection. She watched her image for a long time, wishing his would come back. As she stood there, she caught a low voice.

"-impossible to tell when it will happen. I don't know how much longer I can keep up the mental blocks."

"Should you?" That was Bobby.

Rogue scowled. Was everyone arguing with Xavier now? She turned from the mirror and finished her walk to her room. She was getting tired of secrets, tired of people tip-toeing around her. In fact, she was just plain tired. She decided to take a nap. At least she knew what to expect from her nightmares.


	3. Truth

The night air cooled his face. The stars overhead shown brightly, no clouds to disrupt his view. Logan lay on his back on one of the flat banks of the roof. He discovered the roof was the best place to get away from people. When he went running, someone eventually came looking for him. Up here, they assumed he was just thinking or sleeping or something, and no one came there randomly.

A short streak of light blinked overhead, a shooting star. He remembered one time when Rogue told him she believed in wishes made on shooting stars.

This one's for you, Rogue, he thought. I wish for you.

Funny, he never made a wish on a burning piece of space junk before, but this felt right. He closed his eyes, feeling them moisten. It would take more than a wish to bring her back. Slowly he got up and began to climb back down to his room's window.

Once inside, he shut the glass quietly. He heard the argument only after he muted the sound of the wind.

"You can't say this is for the best anymore," Jean said. She sounded totally pissed off.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Xavier asked her. "You saw what happened the last time. They cannot handle this."

"Logan's getting worse," Scott told him. "I can see it. They're both getting worse. The switches happen in the middle of the day now. Bobby's already almost slipped twice."

"Xavier, please. This isn't right." That was Jean again. The argument must have been in the library. The funny thing was, the air vent in his room lead straight to it. No one seemed to realize he could hear what was said in that otherwise very private room.

"I don't even know if I can tell them," Xavier said. "Most of my power is drained from monitoring Logan alone."

"Then let me help," Jean protested. "You take Logan. I'll help Rogue."

That set him off. In a rush he threw his bedroom door open and raced for the library.

_I'll help Rogue._ Present tense. She was alive, and they all knew it.

He burst in on the three of them. Scott and Jean stepped instinctively in front of their Professor as Logan stared wide-eyed at them.

"What the hell did you just say?" he snapped.

They exchanged glances.

"What are you talking about?" Jean asked finally.

"Rogue," he snapped. "She's alive? You've been keeping us apart?"

Their looks said it all. He unsheathed his claws.

"Logan, wait," Scott called, holding up his hands.

"Tell me where she is," he snapped back.

There was another tense pause as Scott and Jean glanced behind them. He could tell the three were talking psychically, and that annoyed the hell out of him. Just as he considered attacking before they finished, Jean shook her head.

"Come with me," she whispered. Carefully she moved past him and out into the hall.

He didn't retract his claws as he followed her. Couldn't. Rogue was alive, and the only people in the world he trusted made him think his failure killed her. He barely registered the path they took as his head swam with raging thoughts. That is, until Jean opened a door in the basement levels.

At first he thought it was a trick, a hallucination or something. It couldn't be real. After all, he couldn't be in a room twice. Jean walked to the side of the hospital bed and looked down at the unconscious figure lying there. She gently smoothed his ruffled black hair.

"What is this?" Logan whispered.

"It's you." Scott came in behind him. "Or at least your body."

"But I'm in my body," Logan snapped. He raised his claws as proof.

"Logan, please try to calm down," Xavier told him. "Breathe gently and look again."

He raised an unbelieving eyebrow, but the man didn't change his look. It took a while to do what he was told. When he did, his claws shifted under his sight. Like in the tree, the shining adamantium dulled, lightened in color until they reached a pale cream, the color of bone. Bone claws. His adamantium was gone, and he had bone claws. He looked up in shock to find Jean offering him a mirror.

Again he took a breath to calm himself. When he looked at his reflection, it shifted. Styled black hair turned brown with a streak of white, lengthened, and fell straight. Strong jaw softened. Green eyes darkened. Soon, Rogue was staring back at him.

"Both of you survived the crash," Xavier explained, "only you were in a comatose state, and Rogue was fighting between your two personalities, both of which wanted to be dominant. I separated your minds within her but wasn't able to subdue yours. The two of you switch dominance every time you sleep."

Logan stared at his glove-covered hands, petite things much too small for a man, hands he knew. "So I'm a copy?" he asked, his soft voice strained. "I'm just a copy of Logan's mind?"

"That's what we thought at first," Xavier said, "but I've been trying to access your mind, your real mind. It is simply not there."

"Brain dead?"

"Actually, I believe your mind was completely transferred into Rogue's body instead of copied as usually happens when she touched someone. Logan, I don't know how to put you back."

"Why keep this from me?" he asked.

"We kept it from both of you," Xavier replied. "We had to. Whenever you were aware of each other, your minds began to break. The strain was too much."

Slowly Logan walked up to his body. "You're going to make me forget again, aren't you?" he whispered. "Before I feel her mind." It was already starting, a tingle at the back of his head like someone waking.

"I'm sorry," Xavier returned. "I have to."

"This isn't right," he said. "This isn't living."

He didn't know why he did it, but he touched the unconscious Logan's cheek. It was a simple move, probably just to confirm it's existence, but instantly he tensed. Through his glove, he felt a surge of heat, a transfer. Against his will, he pulled something into himself, something missing. His vision went black.

**

He stood in a completely white space. It stretched on forever. No shadow traveled away from his feet, yet the room shone with more light here than he ever saw before. No break divided the infinite white, stretching above and below him to meet at the horizon. That is, except for one solitary figure.

"Logan!"

She was the greatest thing he'd ever seen. Rogue rushed up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lifted her into the air, laughing.

"You're alive! You're alive!" she cried, over and over again as he held her tightly. She was overcome with excitement, with relief. She never wanted to let go.

He agreed on that, tightening his grip, then suddenly realized he'd agreed with something she hadn't said. She caught the thought and slowly released her hold on his neck.

_You can hear my thoughts?_

It was as clear as if she had spoken. He nodded.

"Our thoughts," he told her. "I think we're in your mind."

"How did you get inside my mind?" she asked. She knew he was real, not some dream her mind created to soothe her. She knew it with all her heart.

At this he paused. How could he tell her they were both trapped in the same body? Kept apart by the people they loved? He didn't have to. She knew it the second the thought entered his mind. Her bone claws extended.

"I'll kill him," she shrieked, now trying to break Logan's hold. "I'll kil him. I'll kill him. I'll kill him."

"Rogue, shut up," Logan snapped.

"But he made me think I killed you," she cried as he finally released her.

"Xavier was protecting our minds the only way he knew how," Logan told her. "Besides, my body's basically dead. No mind to go with it."

Suddenly the space around them shifted. Endless white gave way to restricting metal walls. Objects rose around them until they stood in the infirmary where Logan's body rested. Slowly Rogue walked up to it.

"What did you do?" she whispered.

"I just thought of it," he returned, just as shocked as she was. Everything looked exactly as Logan remembered, every instrument, every floor tile, even the smells and temperature felt perfect.

"You look so peaceful," she muttered, examining the prone figure.

"I guess so," Logan ceded.

"Not like in my dreams," she said.

Instantly the scene jumped away from them. An even more confining space replaced it, and they stood in the X-wing. Silent alarms blazed, and a frozen image of each of them appeared, Logan in the pilot seat, Rogue clutching a seat back just behind him. Oddly, the setup had a double quality to it, compounding both of their perceptions. What their memory agreed on stayed constant, but where they remembered things slightly differently, the object would shift, trying to appease both at once.

"Rogue," he snapped. He couldn't believe she'd brought him to his nightmare.

"I didn't do it on purpose," she returned, adding silently, _You have the nightmare too?_ He couldn't ignore the sadness in that thought.

He walked up to her and gently wrapped her in his arms. "It's all right, darlin," he whispered. For some reason he knew she couldn't hurt him here. He set his cheek on her forehead, holding her tighter.

With all her heart, she wanted the nightmare to leave. Logan was alive, wasn't he? This wasn't the scene of his death anymore. But the image burned in her mind, so Logan took control.

Thinking of the most calming place he'd ever been, he forced the nightmare back. Sand spilled out beneath their feet, giving way to lush grass at their right, gentle saltwater waves to their left. Sun and palm trees created a mixture of shade and warmth. A soft breeze brought sounds of shifting leaves and crashing waves to their ears. Adding some imagination, he twisted the island scene until the temperature, the light, the feel of the sand, was exactly what Rogue wanted. Everything done, he let her go. Shocked, she simply stood there, staring at it all.

"It's…beautiful," she whispered. Then she touched the scarf around her neck. "But now I'm too confined." Obediently, her clothes shifted, shrinking until settling as a two-piece swimsuit.

Logan smirked as she glanced at him. "You too," she told him, indicating his gloves and long sleeves. For a second, his clothes twitched, trying to obey her call, but they gave up and fell back around him.

"Guess I have to do it," he said, and imagined a modest swimsuit for himself.

She smirked in turn. "Modest now, are we?" she asked as he settled on the sand.

He shrugged, careful to keep his mind blank of any embarrassing thoughts. She caught it anyway and gave a small laugh. After a moment's hesitation, she laid at his side. He wrapped his arm around her, and they watched cotton clouds drift overhead.

The warmth was strange to her. She hadn't felt skin on skin contact in years, at least, not without side effects. She felt like she was fifteen again, her powers still dormant. Only she wasn't. She was a grown woman now, and she knew very distinctly what Logan was thinking.

"Don't go on like that," he told her. A small thought made one cloud morph into a rose. "I'm just glad you're here, alive."

She nodded, making the cloud next to his rose into a bird with wings extended. She agreed. Nothing made her happier just then than his mere presence, that he was alive.

They played with the clouds for a while, a long while, though the sun stayed frozen in its position. Everything as perfect, and if it wasn't, one of them quickly made it so. Finally he glanced over. She knew the thought before he even finished it.

_I love you._

His lips met hers, and they both held the contact as long as possible.

Annoyingly, it was at that moment that Xavier appeared. He was tired, they both saw it instantly, and he was very shocked to find himself on a beach.

Logan and Rogue shared a scowl and forcefully made it so they couldn't feel his mind. That was something they wanted for just the two of them. When they barred him, he jerked a step back. His image blurred slightly, but he finally regained his stance. They felt him lace a mental anchor in their mind. He wasn't going anywhere.

"You both look well," he said, his voice forcefully calm.

"We are," Logan told him. He and Rogue sat up.

"Why are you here?" she asked. The sand on her shoulder itched. Logan brushed it away.

"When one of my students collapses into a coma for no reason, I tend to get a little concerned," he said. "Logan, when you touched your real body, you fell unconscious. It's been twelve hours. I don't know why your combined minds make such a strong resistance to my powers, but I have a fair headache and would really appreciate it if you'd both show me a little courtesy."

Instantly a beach chair appeared. Their Professor settled onto it exhaustedly. "Thank you," he muttered.

As he rested, Rogue and Logan glanced at each other. The thought was mutual:

_I don't want to go back._

Xavier didn't catch it. "I believe I can transfer your mind back into your body now, Logan," he said. "I think with both of you conscious of the other's presence, I can untangle your minds."

"What if I don't want to go back?" Logan asked. Rogue nodded, gripping his hand.

"You can't stay here, dreaming your lives away," Xavier told them. "Your bodies are comatose, unable to defend themselves. You have to return to the real world."

"I won't leave her," Logan snapped. Rogue started to shiver from nerves. He increased the air temperature.

"You won't be leaving her," Xavier told him. "You'll be letting her live a full life again."

"I won't let him go," she snapped. Her anger made the beach chair vanish, and Xavier dropped to the sand with a soft thud.

"You have to," he said.

"Why?" she asked.

"If you leave his body without a mind for long enough, you _will_ kill him," he said.

That chilled her to the core, and she dropped Logan's hand instantly. He knew nothing he could think or say would allow him to stay now. He pulled her towards himself. She stopped resisting the second she felt his thought. They kissed again, holding on to each other as tight as they could. Their tears blended together. Finally, Logan let go.

"Do it," he whispered, releasing everything.

Pain shot through his entire body, a thousand cutting knives, burning with uncontrollable fire. They sliced through his mind, through his limbs, through his heart, and all he could do was scream.


	4. Epilogue

When he could open his eyes, Logan was in the infirmary; cold, soar, and very acutely aware that he couldn't hear Rogue's thoughts. His body wouldn't get up. All he could do was turn his head.

There she was, still asleep, Xavier's hands hovering next to her head. Jean tried to check his eyes, but he pulled away. When he looked back, Rogue was watching him. Their eyes locked together.

"Professor," Scott called, hurrying to the man's side as he slouched over in his chair.

"I'm all right," Xavier muttered. "Nothing a few weeks' rest won't cure."

Logan barely registered the exchange. He'd been ripped from her hold, from her very being, and now he felt so cold he was sure he actually was dead.

"Logan, can you sit up?" Jean asked, placing a light hand on his shoulder.

He jerked at the touch and bolted upright. Only Jean's quickened reflexes kept him from hitting her.

"Logan."

That soft voice made him freeze. His anger disappeared as Rogue sat up. She didn't say anything else, just sat there, watching him. He couldn't take that look. He stood.

"Careful," Jean cautioned, though she didn't try to touch him again.

He didn't care that his head was spinning. He had to get away from them. Anywhere was better than here. He let his feet take him where they wanted to go, and they wanted to go back to his room. No, not really his room. When he was in Rogue's body, he'd thought the room smelled like him. Now her scent, that sweet mix of New Orleans spices and New York apples, was everywhere. He couldn't help it. He stayed.

He closed the door and turned off the lights, crawling into the bed like a child seeking comfort during a storm. Let Xavier do what he wanted. Logan was tired, hurt, and wanted nothing more than to be back on that beach.

As if to answer his call, the door opened. Then it closed. He looked up to see her shadow-hidden figure. She came up to the bedside.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"This is my room," she said.

He understood. Gently he moved to the far side of the bed. She settled under the covers across from him. They lay facing each other, a foot of bedding separating them. It was enough.

"Xavier wants you to move back into your old room," she said.

"He does?"

"I told him to go to hell."

Logan smirked. He liked her style.

"This isn't going to be easy," he told her.

"I know."

"We can't go back."

"I know."

He studied her shrouded figure for a moment before nodding. "Goodnight, Rogue," he said and closed his eyes.

"Goodnight," she returned. Then, "I love you."

He smiled as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
